#57: Understanding your productivity shame

It's bad enough that you're nowhere near as productive as you ought to be (according to you) - but, to make things worse, you can't ever get any help with this problem, because that would involve fessing up to the shameful truth that you are a terrible human being who doesn't work as hard as they ought to work and therefore deserves to be shunned from civilised society forever. Is there any way out of this hellish situation without revealing your villainous nature? Don't worry, friend. You're in safe, non-judgmental hands. The Academic Imperfectionist is here to help you understand and overcome that shame you're dealing with.

Episode transcript:

It’s time to unpack your productivity shame.

You’re listening to The Academic Imperfectionist. I’m Dr Rebecca Roache. I’m a coach and a philosopher at the University of London, and week by week I’ll be drawing on philosophical analysis and coaching insights to help you dump perfectionism and flourish on your own terms.

Hey you. It’s been a really exciting couple of weeks here at Imperfectionist Towers! After the last episode came out, this podcast spent the best part of a week topping the Australian charts. It was the number one self improvement podcast in Australia - beating Rich Roll’s wonderful podcast into second place. I was delighted by this - honestly, it’s more than I ever thought would happen when I started this podcast. As I’ve said before, this podcast is just me in my jammies - no budget, no technical help, no fancy studio. So, I’m allowing myself a pat on the back here. I do, though, want to extend a big warm welcome to my Aussie listeners. If you’ve just discovered the podcast, I’m delighted to have you here. And if you’re a long-time listener, don’t feel neglected - I love you too. Right. Enough gushing. On with the show.

Do you ever feel shame about not being productive enough? You’re in good company if you do. You’d be forgiven for not realising that, though - shame about productivity is something many of us are reluctant to talk about. A few days ago, when I was planning this episode, I tweeted about this, hoping for responses from people who feel shame about their productivity, and who might be willing to talk to me about it. Crickets in response. Maybe everyone was too busy being productive to check twitter. Maybe you’re all happily living up to your own standards of productivity. Or maybe nobody replied to my tweet precisely because they feel so much shame around their productivity. This is certainly the impression I get in my coaching sessions. I don’t think I’ve ever had a client who has described not being productive enough without also describing the shame they feel about it. I empathise. It feels odd to say this now, but until only a few years ago, I would never have dreamed about talking to anyone about something like procrastination - as in, talking seriously about what a problem it is, rather than making jokes about it - because doing that would have meant admitting that I procrastinate enough for it to be a problem, thus outing myself as a hideous train-wreck of a human being who doesn’t do anything she’s supposed to do because she’s too lazy and entitled. I’ve learnt my lesson on that score, as you’ll know if you’re a regular listener to this podcast. And I try, at every opportunity, to let my students know that it’s completely business-as-usual to procrastinate and be underproductive and struggle to get going and get constantly distracted. I don’t want them to feel like shameful moral outliers, the way I used to, and the way so many of you do.

In this episode, I want to talk about your productivity shame so you don’t have to. I want to explore questions like: what is shame, what’s happening when we feel shame about our productivity, is it appropriate to feel that sort of shame, and what can we do about it if it’s causing problems for us?

One view of shame, which goes back to Aristotle, casts it as something we feel when we’re overly concerned with how other people view us. Aristotle calls it a ‘fear of disrepute’. It’s tempting, on this view, to think of shame merely as something we feel when other people discover what we’re up to. Like, there we are, happily doing all sorts of horrible things, and then disaster strikes and we get caught out, and we feel ashamed as a result. On that sort of view, shame isn’t something we need to worry about when there’s no fear of discovery. Which ought to make productivity shame nonsensical for many of us, because all those hours we spend on Youtube when we’re supposed to be writing are our dirty little secret, which nobody will ever find out about, because we’re definitely not going to fess up. If this were the way it worked, we wouldn’t feel shame about our lack of productivity until we got caught out. But it’s not like that, is it? Because otherwise, you wouldn’t spend so many of your evenings reflecting on how little you got done during the day and feeling like a terrible excuse for a human as a result. I know what you’re going to say here: yes, it may be true that nobody else knows you’ve got bugger all done during the day, but your inner critic knows. Your inner critic always knows, and of course you feel shame under her unforgiving gaze.

But anyway, that ‘fear of discovery’ aspect doesn’t tell the whole story. Because it doesn’t explain why we feel shame in response to being discovered doing some things but not others. Working in the library, walking home from the park, buying pasta in the supermarket, checking our phone while waiting for a bus - these are all examples of activities that, except in weird circumstances, we wouldn’t care about being discovered by others. It’s only when we’re caught doing shameful things that we feel shame. Things like cheating in an exam, reading someone’s private journal, falling asleep during an important meeting, and - the horror - looking at social media when we’re meant to be working. So, what is it that makes those shameful things shameful?

One influential view in philosophy, which goes back to the American philosopher John Rawls, has it that we feel shame when we fail to live in accordance with our own values. When this happens, according to Rawls, our self-esteem suffers, and that’s what shame is. There’s certainly something about that view that rings true, isn’t there? In the case of productivity shame, we fail to live up to the values we hold in relation to how much of a certain thing we get done, and then we feel bad about ourselves. But still, I don’t think this is quite right. For one thing, it’s possible to fail to live in accordance with our values without feeling shame about it - you might value getting an early night but then accidentally binge-watch a new series on Netflix, or you might value running 10 kilometres in under 40 minutes but then take more like 90, or you might value eating healthily but then find yourself ordering a second pizza. Now, it’s possible to feel shame about all these things, but it’s not inevitable - so, the question still remains, why? And then there’s also the point that sometimes shame doesn’t seem to be about values at all. In that famous story from the Bible about how Adam and Eve felt shame and covered up when they realised they were naked, there weren’t values involved. We feel shame when we’re humiliated in public, even when we’ve done nothing wrong. And sometimes people feel ashamed as a result of being the victim of a crime, or not having very much money, or having a disability, or simply not being conventionally beautiful enough. We can’t make sense of any of these experiences of shame if we try to view them as failures to live in accordance with our own values.

The philosopher Krista K. Thomason has argued for a different account of shame. She thinks that shame is not about values, but about identity. She’s written that a person - and here’s a quote - ‘feels shame when some aspect of her identity becomes prominent or revealed in the shameful moment and that she feels that this thing defines her as a whole’. In other words, we feel shame at a moment when we spot a mismatch between the way we think of ourselves - our self-image, in other words - and the way we really are. On this view, we feel shame about our productivity when our conception of ourselves as a studious, conscientious, prolific person is undermined by the disappointing reality of how we spent our day wasting time and napping. This view also fits with those other examples that don’t lend themselves well to an analysis in terms of values: someone who is a victim of a crime, or who finds themselves unexpectedly naked in public, or who has a disability, thinks of themselves as being one way and then finds that they are actually something else. ‘Overshadowing’ is a term that Thomason uses to explain this: a person with a disability might feel shame when something happens that leads them to feel that their disability overshadows other aspects of themselves; aspects that they might tend to think of as more central to who they are. In that moment, they feel - to use another of Thomason’s terms - defined by their disability. Similarly, someone who finds themselves unexpectedly naked in public - and I guess we’ve all had that dream at some point - feels shame when they find their identity overshadowed by their nakedness. They might be a great cook or really quick witted or an amazing athlete - but none of that matters at that moment. They’re just an inappropriately naked person. That’s what shame is.

I’d add something to Thomason’s account of shame, because I still don’t think it explains all of what’s going on with shame. After all, it’s possible to experience a mismatch between our self-conception and our identity without feeling shame about it - and it can even be a positive thing. Here’s an example: imagine that you’re taking a class and you feel you’re struggling with it more than the other students, and that you’re going to end up with a lower mark than the rest of them as a result. And then the results come out, and you’re astonished to see that you’re top of the class. Wow, what a mismatch between your conception of yourself as a weak student and the reality - but what a welcome one! On Thomason’s account, that mismatch should result in shame, but you’re not ashamed in this situation - you’re elated. What I think needs to be added to Thomason’s account is something about how attached you are to the aspect of your self-conception that gets undermined when you feel shame. So, on Thomason’s account, someone who feels shame about - say - cheating in an exam does so because they like to think of themselves as a decent sort of person, but that part of their self-conception gets undermined by the reality of their dishonest choices. I think an important factor here is that this person wants to continue to think of themselves as a decent person - the part of their self-conception that gets undermined is something they want to protect. And by contrast, when you unexpectedly come top of the class despite thinking of yourself as a weak student, being a weak student is part of your self-conception that you’re happy to give up. You don’t want to protect that aspect yourself. Unlike the exam-cheater, you’re happy to be proved wrong.

Let’s bring this back to your productivity shame. According to Thomason’s account, you’re ashamed of your level of productivity because you like to think of yourself as more productive than the reality of how you spend your time reveals you to be. And according to my addition, thinking of yourself as a productive person is something you want to continue to do. You want to protect that part of your self-conception. I’m going to suggest that you deal with your productivity shame by attacking both of those things: I want you to question your self-conception, as it relates to productivity, and I also want you to question the extent to which the way you spend your time clashes with your view of yourself as a productive person. That’s all a bit of a mouthful, so let me break it down.

First, you like to think of yourself as a productive person. That’s nice. We all like to think of ourselves as people who get stuff done. Getting stuff done is good. But, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I think there’s a pretty good chance that you have an unhealthy attachment to your view of yourself as a productive person. There’s a couple of reasons I think that. The first is that I’d be willing to bet that, if I were to ask you to explain what you mean by your being a ‘productive person’, you’d come out with a load of nasty perfectionist stuff. You’d say things about expecting yourself to be able to sit at your desk for hours on end and remain in a state of laser-focused flow for the entire time. Or maybe you’d say something about being able to churn out polished articles - or whatever other sort of ‘outputs’ we’re talking about here - at a superhuman rate which you’ve never managed in the past except maybe for short bursts of time when you had a deadline to work to. Or maybe you’d point to one of those sickening superstars we all know - you know, those people who can dash off a week’s worth of work while their morning coffee is brewing - and claim that you ought to be able to work like that too. I’m plucking all these examples from my own vast repertoire of unattainable standards that I imposed on myself in the days before I knew better. It’s perfectionism’s ugly face. Nobody needs to see that. You need to rethink your ideas of what productivity looks like. That way, you get to keep your self-conception, according to which you’re a productive person, but you update your idea of what a productive person looks like. If you need some help with that, go and listen to episode #9: Cancel your productivity anxiety.

Where was I? Oh yes - I was talking about your unhealthy attachment to your view of yourself as a productive person. So, one reason it’s unhealthy is, as I’ve just explained, because you have an unrealistic idea of what a productive person is. Another is that you’ve staked too much on it. If you’re an academic, or if you’re working in any other highly competitive field, that’s probably inevitable. You’d be forgiven for thinking that you need to be productive in order to be a good person. Your worth as a human being stands or falls with your productivity. And that’s just warped. Life isn’t about productivity. If you need help realising that, go and listen to episode #17: The importance of wasting your time. In any case, despite the way you treat yourself, you don’t really think that being unproductive makes someone a bad person. Think of how you view people you care about - your friends, your relatives, your students - when they aren’t as productive as they think they ought to be. I bet you respond with compassion and encouragement, rather than with the harsh judgments you heap on yourself. When it comes to them, you recognise that there’s more to a person’s value than productivity. The same is true of your value and your productivity. Be mindful of that double standard.

So, to sum up my lessons about conceiving of yourself as a productive person: update your view of what being a productive person involves, so that it’s not the bonkers perfectionist wet dream that you’ve been assuming it needs to be; and recognise that, in any case, your productivity doesn’t define your value.

Next: question the extent to which the way you spend your time clashes with your view of yourself as productive. Productive people procrastinate. They ‘waste time’ - and note that there are scare quotes around that expression. They hit the snooze button. They daydream. They take walks. They spend their days in ways they hadn’t planned. They take longer than they expected to get things done. They get frustrated with themselves. In short, they have days - and plenty of them - that look exactly like the day that you’re feeling ashamed about. Trying to be productive is hard, and it’s emotionally difficult - at least, it is if you’re doing something challenging. If you’re the sort of productive person who consistently ends every day feeling satisfied with how well everything has gone, then the chances are you’re not aiming high enough. In fact, I guarantee that if your life were to look like that, you’d feel shame about it, wouldn’t you? Because then you’d be beating yourself up about having set yourself low standards. Admit it.

So, I want you to try something. Next time you end the day feeling frustrated about how much time you’ve wasted and how little progress you’ve made, say to yourself: ‘This is really frustrating, but this is what being a productive person looks like’. And then reward yourself for the productive day you’ve had. Because if you’re really committed to this idea of yourself as a productive person, then you need to make peace with the experience of being really frustrated with the way things are going. And here, I think, we’re getting into a larger problem, which goes back to what I said at the start of the episode about how we’re often so reluctant to be open about how frustrating our working experience is. It’s because we’re ashamed of our rate of progress, of course. And that just feeds into our shame, and especially into the shame of more junior people, who end up thinking, ‘Maybe it’s just me who isn’t spending every waking hour writing’. In reality, it happens to all of us. Individuals vary, of course, and some produce more than others. But, I guarantee that nobody is being as consistently and relentlessly productive as you think they are.

What I’ve suggested here is a strategy to lessen the shame you feel about your rate of productivity. Assuming that Thomason is right in her claim that shame is something we feel when there’s a mismatch between our self-conception and the reality of who and what we are, the strategy I’ve outlined works by reducing that mismatch, by trying to bring our conception of ourselves as productive people into closer alignment with the frustrating, imperfect reality of our day-to-day lives. You’re working in a field that is already emotionally gruelling, and not only for reasons relating to productivity. Let’s try to lighten the burden of shame that you’re carrying. Until next time, friends.

I’m Dr Rebecca Roache, and you’ve been listening to The Academic Imperfectionist. If you enjoyed the episode, please subscribe on whatever podcast app you like to use. I want to help as many people as I can with these episodes, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d share the podcast with any friends who you think might find it useful, and if you’d consider leaving a review on your podcast app. If you’d like to support the podcast financially, you can do that at patreon.com/academicimperfectionist. For more information about me, the podcast, and my coaching, please visit the website - academicimperfectionist.com. You’ll find links there to The Academic Imperfectionist on Twitter and Facebook too. If you have an idea or a request for a future episode of The Academic Imperfectionist, please drop me a line, either via my website or by tweeting your idea with the hashtag #AcademicImperfectionist. Thank you for listening, and see you next time!

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#58: When you're doing everything everywhere all at once

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#56: You're not weak-willed, according to Socrates